Breakin' Dishes
by RelapseAndEscape
Summary: Finn doesn't feel big or strong. He feels small and fragile, but Rachel needed a leading man. Mr Schue needed a leader. They all needed him to keep his head high, but sometimes, he's just bound to break. He does so in the middle of Glee when he has a panic attack. Hudmels, ND. TW: panic disorder, anxiety.


_this form of anxiety is REALLY, REALLY special to me because i myself have an obsessional fear of 'disappointing people'. hence i act very compulsively sometimes, but in the end, i have anxiety episodes that are VERY far away from each other. sometimes months, sometimes weeks, sometimes days (days from yesterday to today). damn exams damn cortisol. so...here's to that. now, i have to leave. :3 hope you like it, sweeties!_

* * *

When Finn Hudson was six years old, he used to walk by a huge glassy dish that was out.

Sometimes, his Mommy would put crush biscuits and put it on top and then she'd make cheese cake and let him pour the yummy syrup. Sometimes, she'd use it to make a huge amount of apple pie that little Finny finished in a day, and casserole. She made really, really good casserole with so much cheese that Finn's taste buds danced. She used it a lot, and she used to roast vegetables and fries in it and make yummy quiches and lasagne when Finn felt really, really sad.

Then Finn noticed that her Mommy brought a new dish. It was even bigger. She was slicing a vegetable and chicken quiche when he'd asked, "Mommy, how come there's a new dish?"

She seemed slightly surprised that he'd even notice that as she cut down a slice of quiche, and then another one, telling him if he wanted another one he could take one, and then he looked at her, expecting her to answer the question.

"Well, honey, that one broke. Not everything's useful all of the time. It just reaches a point where it breaks."

Finn cocked his head to one side. "But it was so _big_." Finn said, voice aghast. "How could it break?"

"Sometimes big things are fragile, too. Remember? The vase in the backyard fell and broke?"

Finn slowly nodded his head and then forgot about the conversation as he continued to eat.

Now, eleven years later, he was sitting on that same exact table, biting into the same exact, warm quiche that his Mommy made him, and it tasted amazing as always. Except now he had to share with Kurt, but Finn was good in sharing. He gave Puck half his fries when they were in elementary and still did, because Puck honestly kept on forgetting to bring his lunch money, and used up the lunch money he 'coughed up from the nerds' on other things, so Finn had to split.

"How was Glee?" Carole asked, sitting down beside them on the table, slicing up some low-fat quiche for herself. Finn remembered – it wasn't so much the same after all, low-fat milk, butter substitute, too many vegetables, not enough chicken, fat-free cheddar, but then again, it was _still_ the same.

Somehow. It tasted the same, sometimes. _Most_ times.

"It was good," Kurt explained the mechanical response then launched into his story, contradicting his earlier statement.

"Finn got a solo with Rachel for Regionals – _again_," Kurt heaved a sigh.

"I'm right here, dude," Finn tried to cut in.

"Yes, Finn, you are. Would you rather have me say it behind your back?" Kurt explained, causing Finn to smile at him.

"You're weird," Finn suddenly said, 'but I love that about you."

"_I'm_ weird?" Kurt repeated.

Finn playfully pushed Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt feigned a fake hurt look. "Whoa there, big guy." Finn seemed to frown at this, but then picked up happiness relatively quick, as he beamed up at Kurt.

"How are you and Blaine?" Burt asked all of a sudden.

"Good!" Kurt exclaimed and then added on as proof. "We watched the Avengers…Robert Downey Jr is _so_ _freakin' hot."_

"…good for you," Burt then shot him a smile before returning to look at Finn.

"And how's Finchel?" Kurt asked.

"_What's_ a _Finchel_?" Carole and Burt asked at the same time.

"Well, Rache and I are just fine," Finn answered back with a soft blush in his cheeks, and recognition pooled into Burt's and Carole's eyes. "She's still real upset about the NYADA thing so I'm around her a lot, but…you know, I'm keeping her together and stuff."

"She does need someone. Poor girl's audition was terrible," Kurt frowned, and then speared a piece of chicken near the quiche. "Is this _lean meat_?"

"Of course," Carole flashed him a smile. "And football?"

Finn just nodded this time, lapsing into silence as he picked off his vegetables. Kurt hit Finn's hand with a fork. "_Finn_! Eat your vegetables," Kurt ushered him like his Mother – well, in front of his Mother no less. "It's like dealing with an oversized child that can bench press you. Sheesh."

"I _can't_ bench press you," Finn said in a slightly lower voice. "You're like – kinda too heavy for me."

"Are you calling me fat?" Kurt said hysterically.

"No, no! Jeez. Kurt, you're like _half_ of me."

"I'm not _half_ of you…unless you weigh over three hundred pounds; I don't see how I could be half of you," Kurt assured him, before sighing again and then staring at Finn's face. Kurt could see something flash across Finn's face –_jealousy_? – Before Kurt's facial expression softened. "Finn, you're not fat."

"I'm _not_ thinking about _that_."

"Finn, I'm –"

_"I said I wasn't thinking about that,"_ Finn said, this time a bit more forcefully. "I was just…you know." He didn't elaborate at the end.

Kurt raised an eyebrow and then Finn speared the quiche again. "You like used that new low-fat thing, right?" Finn attempted to change the subject, looking at the quiche – same, but so different – as he forked it into his mouth.

Carole slowly nodded her head.

"You're off," Kurt suddenly stated. "You're off your game, Hudson. Something's wrong."

Finn just shrugged. "I guess – I don't know, stress?"

"Yes, the big ole' leader stress. Must be nice knowing you can order everyone around," Kurt rolled his eyes, and this caused Finn to drop his spoon, and disappear back into his room. Kurt looked at Burt and Carole unable to understand. "Finn, I was joking!"

"It wasn't funny!" Finn called out from where he was at.

"I'll go talk to him," Burt offered, standing up before Carole did and then stepped towards Finn's room, which wasn't shut. Apparently, Finn didn't count on anyone following him. Burt sat down beside Finn, whom just sat up straight the minute Burt walked in.

"You know, you made Kurt really, _really_ upset."

"Cause I got a solo with Rachel and he didn't get one with Blaine? Or is it when I told him I couldn't bench press a living human being? Or you know – the fact that he can't order everyone in Glee?" Finn asked.

"Kiddo, what's going on?" Burt's facial expression softened. "Why are you acting like this? And don't you dare say stress."

Finn didn't respond. "It's just an off night for me," Finn stated. "Rache and I got into a fight, and she was real upset. It just….I don't know, you know? Sometimes. Stuff seems so much like it's the same but it's different. Some people just can't hold it together, people like…"

"Kurt and Rachel?"

Finn shut his eyes, and nodded his head. "Yeah."

"You worried about Kurt?"

Finn nodded again, face still stoic. "Yeah, I mean – you know, NYADA and stuff. Who's gonna look out for him then?"

Burt clasped a hand on Finn's shoulder, squeezing it tightly. "I'm sure the kid can handle himself…and…er…Robert Downey Jr."

Finn rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess. Can't help but doubt sometimes, you know? What if something like really awful happens to him or something?"

Burt just shrugged. "He'll handle it. He's not that weak you now."

Burt stood up and left Finn there to tend for himself, whom just sighed, shook his head and spread himself across his bed, looking at the ceiling.

Kurt walked in some time after, sitting down beside him, and lying on the bed.

"Hey," Kurt called out. "Dad told me."

Finn nodded his head slowly.

"Come on, you big old oaf. I can take care of myself," Kurt gave him a hug, but Finn was unresponsive. "Finn…do you really think I'm weak? Or are you really just that off?"

"Real off," Finn promised as he held Kurt in his arms, running his hand down his hair and bringing him closer. "You know?"

Kurt nodded in his head and pressed his head against Finn's shoulder. "You're not fat, you know? You're strong, and tall, and can knock down people. So your frame is large and your bones are dense, Finn, I love that about you," Kurt tried to assure him still.

"I really am fine," Finn tried to plead with him.

"If you say so," Kurt sighed. "Can I stay here?"

Finn bit down his tongue and nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"Nighty night, little brother." Those words seemed so foreign spilling out of Kurt's mouth, reminding Finn that he was in fact the younger one between him and Kurt, but it was his size that often made even Finn forget that.

That morning kicked off with Kurt walking up before him and Finn picking up any shirt and pants from the ground, feeling very lifeless and lethargic, as he made his way towards the bathroom to change as quickly as possible. He was met with Kurt, whom just shoved a bunch of waffles at Finn doused in butter and syrup, contrasting with Kurt's healthy-looking fluffy pancakes.

"Breakfast of the champions," Kurt tried to reason with him. "A little pick-me-up?"

Finn nodded, and silently ate. Kurt joking when Finn had left two waffles on the plate. "Oh, Finn Hudson has a stop codon for food now."

Finn didn't respond to that, and Kurt had driven him, noticing his brother's silent state, almost as if he was thinking and thinking and thinking – this was only enhanced when Finn walked over towards Glee and was met by Mr Schue's enthusiastic smile. Finn smiled weakly at Mr Schue, before he brightened up completely, almost as if he had to. To Kurt, it looked incredibly masked after seeing him so glum and pale for most of the day, causing Kurt to raise his eyebrows.

"Okay, so we're going to work on Rachel and Finn's solo today –"

Finn paled back right now and Kurt could see it. It was almost like Finn didn't _want_ that solo. Now, Kurt felt guilty – was this because of yesterday's complain?

"Mr Schue, I have some observations…Finn should stand right beside that pillar in the studio sheet for props. I think we should get him to lean on it, and then he can kick off the song…leading us to victory."

Finn didn't say a word through this.

Mr Schue looked at the studio sheet. "So, we're gonna go to the auditorium and Finn's gonna kick start the song for us so we know how's it's going then, okay?"

With that, the auditorium was a mass of people staring at Finn shine, and the thing was Kurt was nearly sure that Finn would rather throw up than shine. The New Directions were crossing their legs and arms and looking with pure contempt at Will's need to make Finn gleam in the spotlight. Kurt seemed to pick this up immediately. Finn was dressed in his costume now – and had leaned against the prop, the pillar, and had begun to sing softly. Kurt could not help but hear the tremor in Finn's voice over the microphone.

Will had given him a thumbs-up from the audience.

Finn had sung higher now, causing Rachel to seem elated from where she stood in her position, then Finn started to shake and it was evident. He paled even more, and started to breathe. The microphone highlighted Finn's lack of breathing. The New Directions pooled around him. Will's hand was on Finn's shoulder.

"Finn, Finn, this—_this_—is a panic attack." Will took off Finn's headset, where the microphone was at. "Come on, Finn, breathe. You need to calm down."

"I am calming down! Okay?" Finn was gasping out this time, eyes dilating. "And stop looking at me like _that_! Stop looking at me like – like I'm _not_ _allowed_ to be this way because I don't know – panic attacks are for tiny people and – your _leader_ or _champion_ or some shit can't be scared. Because _I'm scared_. _I'm scared_. I feel like I'm gonna _break_ all of the freakin' time! It's so stupid! I didn't want to be like this – I didn't _want_ to order people around. I don't. I don't want to be in the spotlight. I don't feel big, and tall, and strong, or anything – I just feel really…really…really _small_ and – Mr Schue and Burt and Rachel need this. Mr Schue, you wanted me to be the leader. Rache, you needed some guy to sing with and you… and Burt needed me to be there for Kurt! I fucked up the Karofsky situation and I can't – I can't screw up again, _I just fucking can't_! If I don't…if I don't do it, then it's—I don't want to—I'm like really big and strong and tall, and I'm kinda – kinda _scared_ of _disappointing_ you guys. _Kinda_. God."

Finn took another dose of air, shaking even harder now, as tears pooled in his eyes but he significantly calmed down by then. "I j-just feel like really small right now."

Finn felt Kurt's arms around him, tightly holding him, as Finn sobbed. "I'm sorry. I'm like really sorry, Kurt. Really." Finn tied to assure him. "It's just when I get _these_…I just don't know what I say and just end up blurting out—"

"—the truth, Finn?" Will tried to help him out.

"Did…did that happen _before_?" Artie said, sounding stunned as Finn nodded his head. "That could be like…a panic disorder."

"I'm _fine_!" Finn called out, now returning to rapid breathing. "I don't have a _problem_!"

"Calm the fuck down, bro." Puck tried to assure him, grabbing on to Finn's shoulder.

Mercedes added on. "It's not gonna help you, boy, if you start freaking out—"

"_I can't control it, okay_?" Finn spat out, starting to look nauseated and pale again, as he felt his heart pound into his ear.

"Finn," Quinn said with an adamant voice. "Calm. Down," her voice was nearly Motherly as Finn nodded his head, but he was obviously still stressing, looking closer to throwing up by the second.

Artie had taken up a PDA from his pocket and started tapping against the screen. "We can help you," Artie tried to assure him. "There's this test you do called the PDSS – Panic Disorder Severity Scale and they use it as a form of diagnosis sometimes and it rates you anywhere from 0 to 28."

Tina nodded. "Anything above 9 is bad."

"So just answer the questions," Artie added on.

"We're playing _House_ now?" Blaine playfully asked, causing Kurt to pinch his boyfriend's shoulder. "Ow!"

_"How many panic attacks did you have during the week?"_

Finn looked at Artie as if he was talking in another language.

"These two," Kurt answered.

"…plus five others," Finn added on quickly.

"Finn." Kurt was horrified at his response. "…was yesterday night—? When you started going all…like _that_ on me—?"

"That one wasn't bad," Finn tried to explain. "Like I just felt my heart pound and I felt really nauseous and sweaty, but it was okay. I could…like it wasn't _that_ bad."

_"How bad are they?"_ Artie tapped at the screen.

Finn answered immediately. "Some I can handle but some get like…this."

_"How anxious have you felt about getting a panic attack?"_

"I don't. I'm kinda used to them," Finn explained.

"Used? How—how long has this been going on, Chubs?" Santana asked, eyes hard on Finn's face.

"_Santana_!" Rachel screeched out, almost as if she suddenly notice Santana insulting her fragile-looking boyfriend right about now.

Santana rolled his eyes. "What? Just asking a question, Berry."

"…like…" Finn tried to recall. "…I think for like seven months. It freaked me out but I'm kinda…kinda just tired of it now."

"…all those outbursts…with Blaine…and….the Karofsky situation…" Kurt tried to link it all together.

_"Where you avoiding any situations—?"_

"Karofsky," Kurt answered immediately.

"And me," Blaine responded.

"And me," Rachel grumbly added on.

_"How about any activities?"_

Finn shook. "I like still went to football and stuff because…you know, my panic attacks are kinda like…I'm kinda _scared_of _disappointing_ people."

"Finn," Kurt called out in a soft voice. "You can _never_ disappoint me. Ever."

"That's not what's running in my head, Kurt! That's not what I hear," Finn looked down at his feet, feeling like he was torn apart for the word to see. "I'm like…it's like it doesn't stop and I just lie there and I'm thinking of stuff I don't normally thing of – stuff that scares me, Kurt. Stuff that I don't want to do but seem so good to do right then…like throw myself off a bridge or…you know, _just die_. I wanted to…"

"Kill yourself?"

Finn slowly nodded his head as tears pooled in his eyes.

"You fell apart, Finn! You're practically fallen apart right now and…" Kurt realised, "and you thought that you weren't_allowed to_?"

Finn's silence was enough of an answer.

_"Did it interfere with anything?"_

"Football games. Lost. Glee. Now," Puck said automatically.

Artie tapped again. "Oh, and I answered the last question by myself so the score is…" Artie waiting for the webpage to load. "11. It's…not that bad, but you know, it says that Finn has a chance of having some sort of panic disorder. You know, you should get it checked."

Kurt nodded. "I will. Let's go Finn."

Finn looked down at his feet, looking moderately ashamed.

"Hey, hey," Santana called out, causing Finn to turn to look at him. "Take care of yourself, Frankteen, alright?"

Finn nodded his head silently and left along with Kurt and Blaine. Kurt was adamant about holding Finn's hand and letting him lean against his shoulder. Finn didn't know why he felt so disgustingly guilty. It was _killing_ him.

Burt Hummel picked up the phone in the seventh hour of his shift. "Yeah?"

"Dad?"

"Kurt?" Burt's voice was burning with overprotectiveness.

"Can you pick Finn and I up? Blaine dropped us off at the hospital." Kurt explained.

"Kiddo, what happened?" Kurt didn't miss the extreme concern in his Father's voice, as Kurt answered back.

"Just pick us up, okay? And the Doctor will explain when you get here."

Burt was very aware of the slight wobble and shift in Kurt's voice as he spoke. Burt Hummel would be damned if he didn't realise that something serious happened to his kids, and now he had to go in and find out. He called Carole on the way, whom hysterically responded by saying that she'll meet him up by the hospital doorway. Kurt had texted him the room, and they had strode.

Finn was sitting on the bedside, and dammit, if the kid didn't look like he was going to throw up the minute that Burt and Carole walked din. "What's going on?" Burt asked, looking from Kurt to Finn.

"Mr Hummel, your son has a type of panic disorder—"

"It's not _that _bad." Finn tried to explain, trying to be helpful.

"—but it's still bad," Kurt dismissed Finn's statement. "He had a panic attack right in the middle of Glee."

"Finn can do CBT, interceptive therapy, and oh, drug therapy. Deducing from his symptoms, I'd given him a prescription for Diazepam. He doesn't need more than a 10 milligram dosage. It's not too potent."

"I don't _need_ _all_ of _that_," Finn protested.

"Finn," Kurt's voice was forceful. "You had _five_ panic attacks in a _week_."

"It wasn't important," Finn wrote it off.

"Kiddo, if you've been going 'round having _panic attacks_…" Burt began, eyes on Finn's face.

"_Imnotsupposedtobethatweak_," Finn hurriedly said. "I'm not."

"Finn, are you even listening to yourself?"

Finn looked down, looking like he was really considering the question as Kurt had given Carole the prescription that the Doctor had given him.

"Come on. Let's go. I'll buy you ice-cream." Kurt promised. Finn just stepped from the bed, looking like he was still honestly thinking about Kurt's statement.

"How is it like?" Kurt asked, "having those…you know, panic attacks?"

"Like there's some sort of pressure in my chest and it keeps sinking and stuff, and all I can really hear is the thoughts in my head telling I'm like disappointing everyone and if I break down then everything's gonna fall apart….and it stayed there for hours. It's like something's up and I'm so down and I can't…" Finn tried to illustrate an emotion he couldn't very well illustrate. "It's really bad."

Carole turned around to hug her boy. "Finnegan, you've got to tell me things like this, okay?"

Finn slowly nodded. Burt clasped a hand on Finn's shoulder. "And don't you ever feel like you don't need it or some shit, okay?"

Finn slowly nodded his head, but the words seem to faze through. "Okay."

Kurt seemed to notice this all too well.

"He won't _talk_."

Kurt complained to the rest of the New Directions when Finn had to leave because he was feeling 'slightly sick' as prior to his words when Kurt had texted him.

"He won't open up. He is just as bottled up as he is before. And it all keeps up accumulating in him until he goes into another attack. Except this time, he's trying to hide _freakin' panic attacks. _He leaves the room. He locks the door. He doesn't say anything just in case he blurts out something when he starts talking. It's like he's a mindless drone."

Puck sighed. "Come on. You idiots haven't been noticing him walking around like a pale zombie or some shit?"

Santana shrugged and then bit down her lower lip. "Hudson isn't singing, that's for sure."

"I want him to sing!" Kurt frantically explained. "I want him to talk to me."

"Then ask him to?" Mr Schue tried to offer.

"I did. And my vocal range has increased dramatically because I found ten hundred different ways to scream out Finn's name."

"Hummel, that sounds like sex…" Puck smirked.

Kurt threatened him with a stage prop, and Mr Schue just sighed. "Do you want us to confront him?"

"You're kidding," Artie said, with adamant eyes. "He'll probably just go into another panic attack when you're confronting him about his panic attacks. Kinda like getting a panic attack whilst trying to think about not getting panic attacks."

"_Oh for Prada's sake_," Kurt grabbed a fistful of his hair.

Blaine bit down his lower lip. "Do you think if we leave him to it, he'll just open up all on his own?" Kurt gave him a look that suggested that Blaine was probably insane for simply suggesting that.

"When! This medicine isn't working on him—"

"Kurt," Blaine began, looking slightly authorative. "You do know it takes 6 to 8 weeks for any medicine to work on him. He'll get better on his own. It'll even out. It takes time."

Kurt looked down at his feet, sighing. "I just…okay. Okay. But if something happens…"

Mr Schue raised his arms in defeat. "…then we'll be the first ones there."

Kurt nodded his head. "I'll take you to your word, Mr Schue."

The days passed by slowly with barely anything happening that caused Finn to show any type of emotion really. Now, they were sitting on the dinner table and Carole had been preparing lunch whilst Kurt was trying to talk to Finn. Burt had also been trying to get around the boy.

"Finn," Carole said in an authorative voice, as she pulled out a dish, and then nearly fell. Burt managed to catch her. The dish fell, shattering into a million pieces.

Kurt heard a strangled sob escape Finn's mouth. "Finn?"

Finn attacked Kurt, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his face, full of hot tears against his skin, as he let tears escape his eyes. "Finn," Kurt's voice was soft as he ran his fingers through Finn's hair. Kurt signalled over at Burt to not do anything. It seemed as if the world stood still as Finn cried.

"I'm just like that, Kurt." Kurt didn't seem to understand. "I'm just like that."


End file.
